


To Wish Impossible Things

by WanderingJane



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Brief Mention of Blood, Brief mentions of torture, Gen, Spoilers for Captain America: The Winter Soldier, mild violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-18
Updated: 2014-04-18
Packaged: 2018-01-19 21:42:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1485103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WanderingJane/pseuds/WanderingJane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An elaboration of the mid-credits scene in Captain America: The Winter Soldier.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Wish Impossible Things

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from the Cure song of the same name.

There was something she was supposed to do, something important, but she couldn't remember what it was. Everything was covered in a haze, a thick, dark, impenetrable fog that made it hard to think, to remember what she was supposed to do that day. Was it that day? Or was it yesterday? She couldn't remember anymore. 

Sometimes the fog would start to clear away, and she would start remembering. Her hands would tingle and a brilliant red light would illuminate the dank cell and the cobwebs the lined her mind would disintegrate and oh god she was trapped in the dark and where was Pietro she needed to get out to find him oh god oh god oh…the needle pierced her arm, her veins were flooded with the poison, and she would forget again. 

She was almost always drugged. When they’d first brought her in, after they’d taken her and Pietro from her favorite little marketplace back home, they wouldn't drug her. There was no point. She couldn't do anything at first, but after a while, impossible, improbable things started happening around her: the locks on her door would break, the light bulbs would all explode at the same time, the guns that were trained on her would misfire. One time, one of the men that prodded her with the strange glowing scepter had a heart attack. They told her later that the man had been perfectly healthy before, that he’d never had any heart troubles, that it had been her fault that he’d almost died. She screamed. It wasn't her fault. She hadn't done anything. She just wanted to see her brother. Please let her see him.

She’d last seen Pietro over a month ago. At least, she thought it was a month. The cell, the dark, the fog – it all made it hard to tell how much time had gone by. She didn't know how long it had been since they were captured. But she was sure that she’d seen Pietro. They had taken her to a large room that housed a clear circular cage. Pietro was inside, running in circles at impossible speeds. He was a blur, but Wanda knew it was him. He finally stopped, shaking and crouched over in pain. He looked right at her, his eyes widening, and his body started shaking even more. He looked terrible. He was pale, and his high cheekbones were even more prominent in his gaunt face. There were thin streaks of white in his black hair, a product of his new-found speed. She tried to take a step closer, but the man at her side tightened his grip on her arm and pulled her away. Or at least he tried. There was still some fog inside her, but it wasn't enough to make her want to leave Pietro, not after she had finally seen him. The man pulled at her, but Wanda thought frantically, desperately that she wanted to stay with her brother. Red light bloomed in her palms and spread throughout the room, making everyone except her and Pietro fall asleep. She tried opening the cage door, but she didn't know how. She didn't know how she made anything happen. Pietro was still shaking, and his face was twisted in pain and surprise, but he too was trying to find a way to get out. She picked up a chair and threw it repeatedly against the cell wall, but it was no use. Either the walls were too thick or she was too weak, but she couldn't knock it down. Tears of frustrated fell from Wanda’s eyes. She didn’t know how to get Pietro out. All she knew was that she wanted to leave that horrible place with her brother. 

Pietro stopped running, and stood right in front of her. A thick layer of glass was the only thing that separated them. His hands were bloody from hitting the walls, and his shoulder looked wrong. His eyes were wet like hers. He held up his shaking left hand and pressed it flat against the glass. Wanda did the same with her right hand. They stayed like that for several long seconds until Pietro’s hand started vibrating, faster and faster, until a buzzing sound filled the air. Wanda’s hair shone red again, and the glass started shattering. It was working; they would finally be free. She tried to smile at him, but Pietro’s eyes widened and he silently screamed her name. She turned around, but it was too late. The needle struck her arm, and the lights in the room slowly dimmed. The last thing she saw was Pietro running again, trying to break the glass before…

She had a set of children’s playing blocks. They were similar to the ones she’d had as a little girl. She liked arranging them in alphabetical order, her fingers running over the deep lines of the letters. Most of the wood was smooth, but she liked feeling the jagged edges under her the tips of her fingers. Sometimes she would toss the blocks into the air and make them dance. She could almost imagine different worlds, worlds that could be, in the grains of the wood. She slowly moved her fingers, the red light making the blocks turn, showing her different possibilities. There was something she needed to do.

There was noise in the cell next to hers. A man was screaming. She recognized his voice, and the familiarity of it slowly started to cut through the fog that clouded her mind. There were crashing sounds and the man screamed again. Pietro! Oh, it was Pietro. That’s what she needed to do. She had to get him out. She knew she could do it, if only she could remember how. She was getting better at using the red light. Maybe when the guards came again, she could use the red light so that they wouldn't give her the drugs. Then the fog would go away, and she would rescue Pietro and they would run away together. It might be too dangerous to go back home, but they could go somewhere else, they could travel. It didn't matter where they went as long as they had each other.

Ow. The sharp needle pierced her arm again. She hadn't noticed the door open, hadn't seen the guards come in. Maybe the fog had been thicker than she thought. It’s okay. She would fight it. She wouldn’t forget this time. She would-

There was something she was supposed to do, something important, but she couldn’t remember what it was.


End file.
